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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27156877">some sunday in autumn</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/guide_to_the_galaxy/pseuds/guide_to_the_galaxy'>guide_to_the_galaxy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Not me starting another au!, Spooky, Universe is a blend of Rise/12, ghost au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:28:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,972</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27156877</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/guide_to_the_galaxy/pseuds/guide_to_the_galaxy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the fallout of tragedy, a series of strangely unexpected events transpire, to say the very least. Really, at the very end of it, they’re all just finding their way back home.</p><p>In which a brother is lost, and much is gained.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Donatello &amp; Casey Jones &amp; Leonardo &amp; Michelangelo &amp; April O'Neil &amp; Raphael (TMNT), Donatello &amp; Karai (TMNT), Donatello &amp; Leonardo &amp; Michelangelo &amp; Raphael (TMNT)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I watched this Omelet short film and this idea instantly came to me. I never wrote it out but, hey, it’s October and I have free time! </p><p>This story is a bit of a canon-divergent au by the way! The boys and their friends are in their later teens. Hope y’all enjoy this fic and the concept!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>One day Mikey watches a Space Heroes episode where the brain dude totally goes ghost-mode. He doesn’t really haunt people, he just tries to fixing things up, helping the crew out with his whole ‘invisibility’ thing. It’s a Halloween special, it’s silly. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mikey doesn’t know why he’s thinking of that now. Or why it makes him so mad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a cool night; August is bleeding into September and the days are filled with rain and heavy clouds and stronger breezes. The Hamato family doesn’t mind it, though. It’s a nice transition into fall, and they take the change gratefully.</span>
</p><p>With the change and passage of time came the day where, hopefully, they would find some peace. It’s been avoiding them since the early summer time. </p><p>Mikey sags a little as he stands, observing the aftermath of his preparation, under the dim, swaying light that hangs above the island of their kitchen. </p><p>
  <span>The kitchen is a mess. And the floor beneath his feet is cool and wet from spilled water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mess provides a distraction, and so Mikey rolls up the sleeves to his Haori, and sets to work, snagging the pots and pans he cooked with, scraping them clean, and tossing them into the sink, listening to April talk about her Chem Lab and locker problem. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries to be gentle in his movements, to keep the quiet that their home holds. It’s always so quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So, yeah, pretty sure I have a C...but what about </span>
  </em>
  <span>you</span>
  <em>
    <span> guys- I mean, how’d it go?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>He turns on the sink and the faucet sputters before water comes out. He keeps his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder.</p><p>“Hm? Oh...yeah, it- It didn’t really…go.” Mikey tries to sound positive either way, an instinctive defense mechanism maybe? It’s so weird...he’s not even sure if he really means what he feels. </p><p>
  <span>“Oh…” April’s voice softly cuts through the speaker. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it was okay, y’know?” Mikey says, still unsure about the truth his words </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> hold, “I got to make his faves so- that was...it was cool.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bento Box, god I haven’t eaten that in so long...I love the way you make it...it must’ve been nice.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>April’s small laughter is like gold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>nice, Mikey won’t lie. Cooking has always been a solace for him; cooking for his brothers was even </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> so of a comfort, something warm and intimate blossoming when they’d smile around a forkful of whatever he’s come up with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt incredibly like himself for the few hours he spent preparing tamagoyaki. </span>
</p><p>But now…</p><p>
  <span>Mikey hears a slight noise from down the hall, and briefly peeks his head around the corner, phone and sud-covered rag in hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if reading him, April lets out a sigh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“How’s everyone?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she asks, for lack of anything else to say, having stalled the question so much already. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Mikey’s almost grateful she’s gotten the question out now than to pretend it wasn’t on her mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face falls slightly, and he leans back to the sink, scrubbing at the dishes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, Ape… I’m. I’m worried, y’know? About Leo…? He was really like...lookin’ forward to this- I mean we...we totally all were ‘s just...you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels his face growing hot, and starts scrubbing at a pot lid a little harder. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah….” </span>
  </em>
  <span>April sighs over the phone, some shuffling as she rolls over on her bed,</span>
  <em>
    <span> “Maybe we should all get away, you know? Like a trip...to get outta the city for a little y’know?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm,” Mikey throats in agreement, his eyes distracted by another sound, one he immediately knows this time is coming from the dojo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would be nice to get away. But they couldn’t leave their father with how ill he is, and the journey would be too much for him. But Mikey thinks of a getaway constantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Do you...do you need me there?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> April asks, “Should I come over?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mikey shakes out of his thoughts with a slight laugh, “Nah...no it’s just quiet- you’d be bored, and it’s, like, a school night.” He flashes a smile he knows April can sense, “Gotta be responsible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>April laughs quietly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Boo, you’re no fun,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry girly,” Mikey chuckles, looking around the corner down the hall again, and sort of realizes he’s been rewashing the same few dishes for the past few minutes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And maybe it’s an empathic thing, but Aprill asks, “How’s Raph? He okay?” As if she knows exactly what’s on Mikey’s mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mikey makes a noncommittal noise in his throat, eyes narrowing slightly as he strains his ear to hear the tone of the conversation going on down the hallway.</span>
</p><p>“He’s takin’ care of dad…” Mikey tells her, and then with a genuine smile, “He started a little garden.”</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah he told me,” April says, a smile in her voice, “He’ll owe me peppers for letting him crash here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heh, we all owe you...a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>He picks more noise coming from the dojo and picks it out as Leo’s voice this time. It’s not loud but it pulls at something in Mikey’s chest, making this odd and familiar feeling sink into his stomach. </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I’ll call you again okay?” He tells April, “Love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you too...I’ll stop by…” she promises, but Mikey knows she won’t, and that it’s hard, and that’s okay; he doesn’t blame her honestly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mikey hangs up and focuses, rinsing his dishes and laying them out to dry. He finishes wrapping up the sashimi, smiling softly as he folds the plastic wrap over the rim of the bowl, thinking of his brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shuts off the light in the kitchen when he’s all satisfied, and heads down the hall to go take a shower, and peeks in on Raph just before he gets to the bathroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Through the crevice of the slightly opened door, Mikey holds his breath, watching Raph as he kneels before their father, applying soothing creams to his body, his face set and focused, stiffened jaw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Splinter’s eyes are grey and dull and Raph avoids them for many reasons, Mikey knows. He feels dirty for watching, like maybe this is too private. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Splinter places a paw on Raph’s arm. It lingers there. “Thank you, my son.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Visibly, Raph tenses, and nods jerkily.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>The shower feels amazing, the warmth washing the weight of the day off from him, spiraling down with the tendrils of water and soap that swirl down the drain. </p><p>
  <span>When he leaves the bathroom, the steam eases out into the hallway and seems like it follows him all the way to his room, where Mikey throws on a sweater and some sweatpants and shuffles his way to the den, his head much clearer than it’s been all day. </span>
</p><p><span>Maybe he’ll watch a movie- something about dogs</span> <span>or something like that- something happy. </span></p><p>
  <span>But Mikey’s stopped in his thoughts when he finds the television already on, and Leo sitting on the couch, eyes numbly boring into the screen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Mikey’s careful; he’s gotta be. He keeps his voice low and casual and pops his head into Leo’s periphery with a small smile. “Whatcha watchin’?”</span>
</p><p>Leo turns his head a little, elbows resting on his knees and his chin in his hands. He doesn’t say much. He doesnt have to. But a soft ghost of a smile appears, and Mikey takes that as his invitation. </p><p>
  <span>He jumps over the couch and plops down beside Leo,  analyzing the TV screen for a few seconds, “Aw-haw episode 57...love this one.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leo offers up a small smile, one that’s a bit improved from the weird, spacey look he had just a couple moments ago. And Mikey gets comfortable, and places a pillow on his lap, and Leo looks at him briefly before scooching and laying himself down and resting his head on the pillow. </span>
</p><p>The episode’s about Captain Ryan finding a new way to fail his team, and Mikey thinks Leo’s gotta pick a different show at this point. It’s great and funny, but probably painfully relatable to their lives sometimes. </p><p>
  <span>Still they watch it, though, and the noise of the show drowns out the loud, penetrating silence of their home. </span>
</p><p>They get about halfway through the episode when Leo clears his throat, head still resting on the pillow in Mikey’s lap. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he croaks, “I got both of your hopes up...I just wanted…”</p><p>
  <span>He sounds small and </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and it’s something Mikey will never ever get used to. He feels his eyes growing hot again, eyes stinging uncomfortably. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hopes </span>
  <em>
    <span>were </span>
  </em>
  <span>high. He woke up excited, raced to the kitchen to cook for their brother, threw on his Haori, and said the mantras until his mouth ran dry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I didn’t say...the right things..?” Leo asks brokenly, “I...I tried to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flinching back from his thoughts, Mikey folds himself over a bit, so that Leo can get a glimpse of his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey...hey,” he says reassuringly, clearing his throat, “Dude, it’s not on you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leo purses his lips like he’s not gonna let himself cry, eyes boring into the television. </span>
</p><p>Mikey laughs wetly, “Maybe Dee just...lost track’a time- got caught up in some ghostly...spirit project he had to do.” </p><p>
  <span>At that, Leo snorts loudly, “That does sound like a ‘Donnie’ thing.”</span>
</p><p>“Yup,” Mikey says, “And there’s gonna be plenty of Obons...we’ll get ‘im at the next one.” </p><p>Leo just laughs again, but it turns slowly into crying. It’s good though. It’s okay. It’s what he needs to do- Mikey doesn’t think they’ll ever in their lives not need moments like this. </p><p>So as Leo quietly eases out his frustration and pain and grief, Mikey listens to the back garage door open, the Shellcycle rev up and pull out.</p><p>And none of them want to admit that maybe Obon didn't work, because maybe- just like the healing hands that failed their brother- everything they’ve been taught are fairy tales. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. healing hands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>While Leo continues to doubt his ability, Karai receives an unexpected visitor.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Shoutout to everyone who helped me remember the healing hands technique! This fic borrows a ton of 2012 concepts, but as we move along I combined Rise elements into it as you might catch at the end!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>"Rin. Pyo. Toh. Sha. Kai. Jin. Retsu. Zai. Zen."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Leo is careful about the way he performs the healing hands. The candles are the only light in the room, casting large shadows on the wall of his father’s room. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Rin….Pyo. Toh. Sha. Kai. Jin. Retsu. Zai. Zen."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The Kuji-Kiri requires focus, and precision. A clear mind and a determined heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Rin. Pyo. Toh. Sha…. Sha. Kai. Jin. Retsu. Zai. Zen."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Their father was no better than he was yesterday, when Leo performed the Kuji-Kiri nine times for completion. There’s doubt in his heart, always doubt. Maybe that’s why this never works.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why it never-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Rin….Pyo….Toh….Sha. Kai.."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>Leo’s vision switches in a glitched movement, like the impromptu eye exams they used to do at home and the letters would click in and out of view. </p><p>
  <span>The body beneath his glowing hands is not his father’s, and the eyes that meet Leo’s are deep and brown and barely open, purple mask half on like he’d just fallen asleep at the desk. Donnie’s finger twitches on Leo’s wrist, but he won’t stop trying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even as the glow on his fingertips flicker unsteadily. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Rin...Rin...Pyo. Toh. Sha-"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Leo blinks the memory away, but it’s so useless. He can’t escape the feelings he’s invited in already, and it suffocates him. Something uncomfortable taking hold of his brave and ever-trying heart in some vice-like grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leo’s always trying. Even now, he tries to finish the Kuji-Kiri through the waves of panic it brings, lips moving with no words forming- the mantra coming out in frustratingly clumsy stutters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A paw comes down on his hands, and with an exhale, Leo stops trying to heal the body that was just his brother’s, but now has disappeared. </span>
</p><p>Instead, it’s Splinter, with a hollowed out stare that tries, at least, to sympathize. </p><p>
  <span>It feels wrong and gross and weird. Leo moves his hand from beneath his father’s, and shakily, stubbornly, rises to his feet to dismiss himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the curtain, Splinter calls his name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leo doesn’t turn to him, but he keeps himself still, begging internally that his father won’t ask questions- or </span>
  <em>
    <span>speak. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But that’s just unrealistic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rustling of fabric against the mat is the only noise that confronts Leo, as his father sits himself up partially. His injuries will never heal. And the months he spent alone in the sewers only sealed his fate. But he still asks every night for Leo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Last night’s the only anomaly to that. Leo’s knees still ache from how long he stayed kneeling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he’s still got some of his garments on from Obon, and disappointment lingers heavily with him. His father’s own grief over it manifested itself in meditative silence for, like, 6 hours. Which unfortunately was not a record.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your brother is at peace.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now his father speaks, and there’s a smile in his voice, “I have...felt him. At peace. He will return to us, perhaps in his next year. And you will master Healing Hands once more, my son.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leo’s fingers curl tightly around the curtain. Maybe his father’s trying too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And though he doesn’t admit it, his father’s words spurn some sad and happy hope in Leo. Like Mikey’s did the night prior. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns, nods, and bows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hai Sensei.” </span>
  <b></b>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The minute the blade had gone through Karai, she knew she’d made a mistake. It was a clean cut, one she didn’t anticipate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d been sloppy, careless- intoxicated by rage and the splendor of fleeting victory as her kunai released from Hamato Yoshi’s son. And Karai  hadn’t noticed the strike coming- and she had dropped her tanto when the katana had pierced her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tanto had been a gift.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a gift from the elderly mother of one of the women who Father hired to nurse her. She was an old woman but didn’t very much look it, and she sang lullabies so gently and soothingly to drown out all the noise of Saki’s clan at work. Her voice didn’t shake with age, it was honey in milk tea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One night in August, the woman had gone into the village and had taken Karai along with her for a festival. They took two busses and walked about a mile in the village. All the way the woman carried manju. It was Obon, and the old woman was celebrating her lost husband. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the altars, Karai watched curiously as many came and went, leaving food and laughing and crying, and placing toys and streamers and lights.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She waited patiently for the old woman to finish her prayer, and her long, long conversation with her husband. And then Karai asked about her mother, and why Father never did Obon so that they could talk again to her again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The old woman had paled, briefly, but then fixed herself, “Perhaps he is not ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s all she said, and Karai didn’t ask any more questions, she knew better than to ask too many. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But late at night, Karai had heard the old woman speak to Father, just outside the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her mother’s spirit, it does not rest where good spirits lie,” her voice was a warning, and held a defiance Karai’d never heard from her before, “Be careful she does not seek you out for vengeance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Karai hadn’t known what any of that meant, and as she grew she had much forgotten about the words of the old woman. She only knew that she hadn’t seen her a single day after that, and knew better than to ask where the old woman went. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only her beloved tanto left at Karai’s bedside. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>With a jolt, Karai is pulled from her memory, hissing at the pain in her side. The pain that reminds her of her lost tanto blade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment Karai had come to, she had asked for it, had her Foot soldiers scour all over Brownsville for it, but it was lost. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Taken. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s silly, maybe, to cry over a mere weapon. It’s only a thing, hardly as fierce or sharp as her other blades. But Karai finds herself tearing up all over again, only allowing herself to cry once the bathers leave the room. She’s damp and feels exposed and feels less dignified, though she’s been hailed the victor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was that blade that won Karai her victory, something to revere. It should be at her bedside once more. If anything it would provide some solace, some reminder that this pain was worth it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And some distraction for the little odd flickers that dance in Karai’s vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Temporary flashes, movements that disappear and reappear in the room. </span>
</p><p>Briefly, in some blissful, childish delusion, Karai wonders if it’s the old woman to visit her.</p><p>
  <span>Father had said she’d taken off, gone </span>
  <em>
    <span>crazy</span>
  </em>
  <span> after seeing her dead husband. Karai then knew not to play with the spirits, but had somehow hoped that the old woman would come back again in some form. Just to sing that lullaby again. </span>
</p><p>But that doesn’t happen.</p><p>
  <span>Though the longer Karai stays in bed, mulling over her lost tanto, remembering constantly the look in Leo’s eyes as he pushed his katana into her- merciless, angry...heartbroken- the more intense the flickering movements in the room become. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tearing her eyes from the ceiling, Karai decides to distract herself by taking a trip to her bathroom, opting to make the short journey alone rather than to ring and have the three women doting on her. She wasn’t a child, she didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gets to the door of the bathroom with only a little bit of struggle, holding onto the doorpost as she gingerly maneuvers her way in, shutting the door behind her. <br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mirror stays somewhat foggy from her bath, steam still lingering in the room, but Karai can see herself clearly enough to know she’s fallen from grace. God, she doesn’t even have her </span>
  <em>
    <span>eyeliner. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s horribly embarrassing. It taints her victory. And maybe it’s all just in her head, maybe she’s just imagining this disgrace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karai rubs her face down, careful of the healing, yellow bruise on her cheek, and she brushes a small tuft of hair behind her ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, again, it’s there. Momentary, the flicker passes through her periphery, briefly catching Karai off guard again. She shakes her head, breathing harshly through her nose as she brings her attention to the bandages at her abdomen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re wrapped nicely, but curiously Karai wonders how much healing her wound’s accomplished in the days she’s been in and out of consciousness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She takes the tucked end of the bandage and tugs at it slightly. It doesn’t unravel, and so she takes it in her fingers and prepares to tug again when-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They just changed that, you really shouldn’t mess them up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound- voice- it feels like it’s in her chest, and Karai goes to clutch at her t-shirt, as if </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’ll </span>
  </em>
  <span>stop it. Not her smartest move but, god, it made her chest feel cold, a grip on it that she’s never felt before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The involuntary trembles her body makes, nearly causes Karai to stumble back into the mirror. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand, murky and pale and glowy and </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong </span>
  </em>
  <span>reaches out to catch her, but the hand falls through. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh shit, I keep...falling for that. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The tightness in her chest as the words echo through her, are slightly more bearable, if not freaky as shit. Karai can’t decide if it’s more or less comforting that she immediately recognizes the voice. But she stands up a little straighter, keeping herself upright with her palm pressing hard on the sink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she blinks at it. Him. The apparition of the lanky turtle thing that won her her victory. A stubborn obstacle eliminated from her father’s path. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Yet, it’s <em>here.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That was supposed to be a pun but….okay. Ya know, because you </span>
  </em>
  <span>fell- </span>
  <em>
    <span>or you almost did-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What….what are you?” Karai barely has the energy to keep the formalities of rivaled disdain and hatred in her voice, right now she’s trying to stand all the way up on her own, to keep herself from sliding down to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ghost cocks his head. His soulless, pupil less eyes boring into Karai. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The guy you killed? </span>
  </em>
  <span>it says, with little hint of animosity, like this is brunch and they haven’t seen each other in too long.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I haven’t changed that much, have I? I mean, how many anthropomorphic humanoid turtles do you see in New York-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>The ghost is cut off as the door bursts open, handmaidens rushing into the bathroom. The kneel at her side, warm hands burning her skin.</p><p>
  <span>And Karai ignores all of their questions, her eyes narrowing despite the fear that makes her breathing harsh as she stares at the ghoulish figure of her enemy that floats in the corner of the bathroom. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Karai is no stranger to seeing the carnage reimagined after a battle. Sometimes, if she can get a glimpse of the face, it would plague her days afterwards, depending on how horrific the expression was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she could always shake it, she could always send those thoughts away. She’d train and train, push herself harder and harder until the only thing occupying her mind was her unwavering ambition. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, she lays in bed. Which sucks ass. Unable to train, her legs being stretched by the handmaidens, her eyes glued to the figure still in the corner of her room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s like a pale glow, like the sun behind clouds- a fuzzy sort of light- just hovering there, staring back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it stays that way, for days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karai refuses to speak to it, it does not speak to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It follows her everywhere regardless. Not that she really </span>
  <em>
    <span>goes </span>
  </em>
  <span>much of anywhere. But it keeps respectfully distanced from her when she brushes her teeth, and that's nice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They just have funny little staring contests until Karai’s eyes start to sting and she turns her attention to the television instead. She really likes Jeopardy. And Family Feud. Steve Harvey is amusing and bald. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Briefly, one afternoon, she thinks the apparition in the room asks for her to turn on Discovery. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, really, Karai doesn’t know why she grants the request, or why she’s content watching a documentary on Meerkats with the ghost of her enemy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it’s because she tells herself this is all in her head, a damaging, clever trick on the mind that she hasn’t been able to fight and train away this time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That when she eventually gets back up, this image will go away, and that she will find some peace. </span>
</p><hr/><p>At night, they all do this thing. Casey thought to start it off, awkward when they first suggested weeks after they all buried Dee. Hands dug into their pockets, rocking from their heels to their toes, Casey proposed they all get some pizza. </p><p>
  <span>Like, just normal pizza. Maybe a little extra cheese, throw oregano on it. ‘Cause that’s how Dee liked it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the brothers- Leo, Mikey, Raph- kinda blinked at Casey for a few seconds. It was such a mundane, average thing, only now it seemed to carry this infinite </span>
  <em>
    <span>weight. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The weird, spaced out stares slowly gave way to realization. And teary smiles. </span>
</p><p>Tonight they’re bummed as hell, and that’s okay. It happens, Casey gets it. </p><p>It’s getting colder at night, some of the tree-line streets are already getting their first yellow leaves. But they’ll keep this up, of course. They’ll just have to sit a little closer.</p><p>April’s already got her blanket that kinda glows with her flashlight under it as she reads out loud- the funniest, craziest story any of them have ever heard. </p><p>
  <span>Turns out Donnie was a not too shabby playwright; he always did have a thing for putting on a good show. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I love love love how Rise gave Donnie that theatre nerdiness to him. While in this au he isnt as dramatic as Rise Donnie, he definitely has this secret (not so secret) love for musicals and plays and in this au, he wrote a funny little play while they stayed at the farmhouse. </p><p>And they/them Casey reigns supreme! </p><p>But what does Donnie have in store for Karai? Stay tuned!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Can you tell I enjoy Mikey and Leo’s dynamic yet? Because I really do. </p><p>Also! Obon is a traditional Japanese Holiday that honors ancestors and lost loved ones. I wanted to give a bit of a chill atmosphere throughout this whole fic, and this first chapter is highlighting some grief ever present in this family. </p><p>More things, like what’s the deal with Splinter, will be explained as the story goes along too so don’t worry! But I love how the show used Space Heroes as some parallel to the boys’ lives lol. </p><p>Don’t forget to kudos and comment if you’re into this! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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